


I Might Be Temporary

by TehRevving



Series: Heaven Sent [6]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Breeding Kink, Cock Warming, F/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rough Sex, Soulmates, Vaginal Sex, feral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehRevving/pseuds/TehRevving
Summary: It’s been a year since Dante and his brother disappeared, heading to hell in order to save the world. It’s been difficult dealing with his absence and to say that you’re struggling to cope would be a gross understatement. You’re at your wit’s end when you accidentally stumble across the strange artifact that you promised you’d never use again. In a moment of shocking weakness you activate it and just pray that you don’t regret it in the morning.2!Dante x Fem Reader. Angst. Feelings. Feral Sex. Wings. Breeding Kink. Cock Warming.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Dante (Devil May Cry)/You
Series: Heaven Sent [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851154
Comments: 15
Kudos: 146





	I Might Be Temporary

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this for like over a month now and honestly I still haven’t decided if this is canon in this series or not. Like, I wanted the whole going back in time thing to happen way after dmcv because I feel like in order to understand Dante that intimately, you’ve gotta deal with Vergil and all of that baggage, but there’s a convenient long absence here that I can use. I also feel like using time travel again in this series cheapens it all a little bit, but I’m horny and 2!Dante is hot, my God he’s so hot. 
> 
> In all seriousness, I'll probably never get to a place with this series where I'll have to address whether this installment is canon or not. So like I'm just gonna say it is for now and maybe change my mind later.

It had been a year since the both of them had disappeared, galivanting off to hell to save the world. Tomorrow was a year to the day in fact and you really couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t even said goodbye before he’d left, you know that he hadn’t had a chance to, but knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

Life had been boring, monotonous since then. You struggled with your own job, while answering the phone and keeping the DMC office running too. The only thing that got you through was listening to the clock tick, counting down each milestone of time that passed. You knew it was pointless, that you’d been disappointed before, but you couldn’t help but be hopeful they would return tomorrow. You’d counted down each milestone; one month, three months, six months, but you’d just been disappointed every single time. 

You know it was stupid but you still stuck a new bottle of Jack’s behind the bar and threw a champagne in the fridge while you chugged sleeping pills so at least your anticipation wouldn’t keep you awake all night. 

A year wasn’t really that long, you knew that, but it seemed that your body didn’t. His absence after so long was a physical ache inside of you, a gaping hole that gnawed insistently at your insides, and a burning between your legs that utterly refused to be sated. Humans weren’t made to handle stuff like this, being joined down to the soul with something that wasn’t quite human, that you knew didn’t quite feel the same way. 

He’d never been away for this long of course, but you figured that some of this pain had to be because he was on another plane of existence. It hadn’t been a noticeable struggle for you, during the month he’d been presumed dead while stuck inside the Qliphoth. You’d been busy during that month though, making preparation, so maybe you just hadn’t noticed. Now though, you weren’t sure how much more of this you would be able to take. 

Of course, you woke up a year to the day, to a cold and empty bed. You weren’t left alone for a moment though. The bell on the office door rang almost immediately once you’d stepped out of the shower and gotten dressed. With Nero having been waiting outside until you were ready and decent. You couldn’t really talk about your feelings with any of them, they wouldn’t understand how you felt. You just put on a brace face while you conversed with company all day. 

You’d dismissed all their offers to keep you company overnight. The concerned looks had almost broken your heart, but you sent them on their way anyway. 

Later that night, while you downed champagne straight from the bottle, curled up in the bed and cocooned in a heady nest of Dante’s old and unwashed clothes crying. You decided that you were going to stop acting so sorry for yourself. 

A few days later, once your hangover had abated, you started cleaning up. You couldn’t bring yourself to wash the scent from his old clothes, but you decided to tidy up the wardrobe a little bit. 

You were on a ladder, dusting the top shelf when you accidentally knocked a small box to the floor. You swore and hopped down to retrieve it. You opened the box and saw the answer to all of your problems as you were greeted by the beady eyes of two fellating snakes.

It was too risky, that was your first thought, but as you fell to your knees, that gaping hole aching and gnashing at your insides just from even the tiniest hint of relief. You didn’t know if you would be able to resist. 

You allowed yourself to entertain the thought for just a moment, convincing yourself that it wouldn’t work. If you’d gone back in time again, well he would have told you about it, wouldn’t he?

You tore through the library to find the tome that accompanied the artifact, reading through it like you were possessed. There were a few sentences, scrawled barely legibly as a footnote on the page. In times of need, you could pull someone forwards through time and then return them, scattering their memories of any events that transpired. 

That would explain it, that if you did this, he wouldn’t remember it. You promised yourself that you’d stop and think about it for a few days, that you wouldn’t go through with it until the weekend, if you did of course, but the thought of maybe solving your problem had made the ache even worse. 

As you spent another night completely decimating the supply of batteries that you had under the bed to hardly any relief whatsoever. You decided you were fucking done waiting around. 

You triple checked the passage, made notes of the incantations and copied them down multiple times just in case something happened to the book. You were going to take proper precautions this time. You gathered everything that you would need and prepared. You washed the sheets and locked all of the dirty clothes and assorted bullshit in the other room. 

You put water and towels next to the bed and dressed in your dirtiest red lingerie, a short skirt and a practically see through blouse. 

You rearranged the landing, where there was more room and less chance stuff would get damaged. You put the artifact down on the centre of the floor and wondered once again what the fuck you were doing. 

You hoped, pleaded that there was enough residual energy flowing through your veins in order to activate the damn thing, and started murmuring the words. You leant down and touched the artifact. The eyes on the snakes began to glow. You stepped back and finished off the spell. 

Nothing happened at first, but then you noticed that the object began to glow. There was a blast of heat and a shock of light that made your vision turn white. 

\---

Your eyes were forced shut by the blinding light. There was a figure standing blurry in front of you when you were finally able to open them again. The light began to dissipate all at once, with a shock rush of heat and air. Your senses were immediately and violently assaulted by the irresistible pull of home. 

The striking halos in your vision slowly began to fade and as your eyes focused, you saw him. He was there, right in front of you. Tall, broad, imposing and perfect. He was dressed in black and red, long white hair falling in his face as you watched him quickly draw his guns. 

“Dante,” you called his name softly and it was enough for him to whip around and face you. He trained both guns on your frame, but you weren’t worried. He lowered them immediately once his eyes locked with yours, his eyes widening in shock. 

He said your name quietly, with disbelief. Hearing the timbre of his voice again made your knees shake. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, not letting his guard down. You didn’t answer him, you couldn’t. You just walked towards him like you were possessed. 

Within moments you were in his arms, your head pressed against his chest. He was warm and smelt incredible. You immediately burst into tears. 

The feel of him, his presence began to quickly overwhelm your senses. You breathed in the unique scent of him, all of the devil pheromones that your body utterly craved. The gaping hole in your chest began to soften at the edges, slowly. He wasn’t quite right of course. There was a sharp wrongness that niggled slightly at the back of your neck. Everything else important was there though and as his arms came carefully around you, his scent slowly morphed from being on high alert, to a soothing blanket of comfort. You felt whole again.

He held you to his chest, rubbing his large, fully gloved hand up and down your back. “Are you okay?”

You stepped back slightly to look up at him properly, because you hadn’t before. 

He was older than he had been, the last time that time travel had been involved. He was still a decent bit younger than when you’d first met him though. His face was young, only a few smile lines gracing the sides of his tired eyes. His hair was long, brushing against the high collar of his coat. He was clean shaven on his face and the large expanse of his collarbones and chest that were exposed were also hairless. He was far too attractive, he looked like a supermodel. Not that your Dante wasn’t attractive, but the man in front of you was something else entirely. 

“I…” you start to say, but your tears threaten to burst forth once more. 

“Oh Sweetheart, it’s alright,” he says softly, smiling gently. He reaches up with his hand and places a thickly gloved finger underneath your chin. He tilts up your head and leans down to press his lips gently to the top of your head. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, pulling off his glove with his teeth. He keeps his other arm around you as he carefully reaches for your face. He carefully strokes your cheek with his bare thumb and wipes away the remnants of tears from underneath your eyes. 

You aren’t sure what to do now. You want to stay close to him, pressed against him. Each passing second softens the edges of the hole inside of you. It feels like it might start to close up. He’s stunning, breathtaking even with the sadness you can see behind his tired eyes. You can tell he’s not the same man he was when you left him, that he’s putting on a brave face for you. That he’s been putting on a brave face for so long that maybe he’s forgotten how to stop. 

You tug on his lapels, trying to pull him down as you lean up. He moves slowly, like you might get spooked and push you away. He acts conscious of his height and size, like he might scare you. His hand moves loosely on your back, so you could pull away from him if you wanted to. A wave of anger flares up in your chest. Who hurt him? You’re going to destroy them. 

His eyes flutter closed once his face moves close to yours. You can feel and hear the tiny hitch in his breath as his lips press carefully to yours. He’s shy, like he can’t quite remember what to do. You have the best intentions of course, but the taste and feel of him against you is soul shattering. You want to breathe his breath deep into your lungs, have him nourish your broken body. Having him so close to you, it opens the floodgates. 

You tug on the strap that rests across his chest, pulling him close to you. He’s slightly startled at the force of your movements. You use that slight moment of distraction to slip your tongue between his lips. He moans as you pull desperately at him. His arm tightens around you and he pulls you up slightly, pressing you against his body while he leans down. Your legs turn weak at the taste of his tongue. 

He doesn’t need to breathe like you do, but he’s the first to pull away. You don’t want to let him go, trapping his bottom lip between your teeth until he pulls far enough away that you can’t anymore. His hands flex on your waist. 

He’s breathing heavily and looks utterly wrecked from just a short make out session. You suppose you’re not much better though as you become aware of the sudden gnawing ache between your thighs. 

He leans down to kiss you again. He lets you lead, sort of but he’s getting into it. Groaning as his hand moves from your waist to your ass and then your thigh, pulling to hitch it up over his waist. You’re trying to climb him like a tree, clawing at his shoulders while your body is overtaken by an overwhelming arousal that pounds between your legs. 

He pulls away from you once again and you look up at him. You whisper his name lowly, breathlessly because you know that it turns him on to no end. 

His eyes fall shut at the cadence of your voice. He releases your leg and moves his hands back to your waist. “Shit,” he groans. “Fuck. I just.” he shakes his head. “You were just crying. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m out of practice and you smell, fuck you smell so desperate all of a sudden. It’s a lot.”

You lower your head and decide to be honest with him. “It’s been a year since you had to go away. It hurts so much, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“That’s why I’m here? You’re not in danger.”

“No danger,” you murmur as he tightens his arms around you. 

He holds you until you calm down a little bit, until he calms down a bit too. “A year,” he ponders, “it’s worse for you isn’t it? The separation”

“I think so,” you say. The hole in your chest is starting to ache again while arousal flares up between your legs once more. Your brain struggles with processing everything and you can feel you’re starting to fall apart. 

“Shit. You’re trembling,” he says and you notice that you are. He positions his arms to hold you upright while he looks around. 

He leads you over to the old worn couch up against the landing wall and sits you down. 

He sits down next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling your head to his chest. Even through his heavy clothes you can feel the steady beat of his heart. He takes the glove off his other hand and then runs his fingers through your hair. 

“I’m sorry I’m not handling this very well,” you mumble against his chest, burrowing into the warmth of him.

He presses his lips softly to your hair. 

“I didn’t really think it through. I was so desperate. I don’t know what I expected to happen,” you push off his chest slightly so you can look up at him. “My body doesn’t know what to do because you’re not quite right. You’re not my Dante.” You sigh, “I don’t know how any of this bullshit works but I know he doesn’t feel like this, because otherwise he would have come back to me. There’s no way he would have been able to survive 20 years - fuck.”

You regret your words when you see the flinch and hurt in his eyes when you refer to your own Dante. You shouldn’t have mentioned a time period either. You lay your head back down on his chest so you don’t have to look into his broken eyes, so he doesn't have to try and hide it from you. 

“None of it matters anymore anyway. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna forget all of this happening anyway when you go back.”

“What?”

“Memory loss is a side effect of pulling someone forwards through time apparently and I, shit you would have told me if you remembered this. Wouldn’t you have?”

“I don’t know.”

“I know you don’t. I’ve made such a mess.”

He squeezes you slightly, “it’s alright. What’s done is done,” he exhales deeply. “I don’t want you to feel bad because you needed help. I can’t imagine what would keep me away from you for a year.”

“I definitely can’t talk about it.” Your voice turns solemn, “please don’t ask or try to get it out of me.”

“Alright.”

The conversation’s done, for a little while anyway. You lie against his chest, listening to his heart and his breathing. He’s warm and the whole front of his shirt is panelled with leather. It’s starting to get a little bit uncomfortable.

You move away from his chest and you can hear the slight sticky sound as you extract your skin from where it’s gotten stuck to the leather. 

“That’s probably not comfortable is it? Do you want me to take it off?”

You nod.

He says nothing, unbuckling the strap from around his chest and then pulls the zipper at the front all the way down. He’s not wearing anything underneath as he slides the garment off his shoulders and leaves it to pool behind him on the couch. 

You reach out and press your palm over his heart, feeling the beat and warmth of it against the hairless skin of his chest. You can’t help but chuckle, “you still don’t have any chest hair.”

“I’m still young,” he scoffs.

You lean down and gently press your lips over his heart. “How old are you?”

He pauses to pretend to think for a moment, “how old are you?”

“Touché,” you laugh. “I think we might be pretty close though.”

And he stops, just to look you in the face, to really take you in. 

The banter, the easy conversation, it makes you feel a little bit better. 

You look up at him, now you’re a bit closer to him, more on his level. You take in his features. He’s definitely young, around your age, with only a few wrinkles and a small amount of stubble on his broad chin. He’s stunning and you wonder how he can even walk down the street without being swamped. His eyes are soft as he looks at you, an intimacy in his gaze that definitely shouldn’t be there. 

He’s yours. All yours, you think selfishly as you lean in to kiss him once more. He’s so receptive to your touch and you just can’t resist him. He’s so into you, hanging on your every touch. It’s probably inappropriate to take advantage of him like this, of the fact that you know every little thing that turns him on, because he’s acting so shy and unsure. You really can’t find it within yourself to care, not when you think about how one sided in the other direction your relationship was with Dante when it was first starting. When he seemed to know exactly what to do to turn you on and he was still an absolute mystery. 

His fingers press roughly into your back as you deepen the kiss between you. You know he’s resisting the urge to pull you into his lap. You want him to though. You could just climb on top of him yourself of course but there’s a tiny blip in the back of your head holding you back. You keep thinking that once you actually, properly get into it. The pressing ache inside of you is just going to get more and more unbearable. A soft, shy fuck just isn’t going to cut it. You need him to be rough. You need him to take you apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left of you. You need to be utterly his, covered with his scent and come. You’re going to need to rile him up and get him feral. 

So you keep kissing him, playing with his tongue with your own while you scratch your nails roughly at his chest. You tug at his hair and bite at his lips and tongue. It’s not long until you can feel the tell-tale rumbling deep within his chest that signals that he’s hungry. You feel the slight prick of a fang against your tongue. 

You smirk against his lips for just a moment, because you know he won’t be able to resist the taste of your blood. You carefully, almost accidentally of course, run your tongue against the tip of a fang just hard enough to cut you. 

His reaction is immediate, the slight pain that you feel is nothing compared to his sharp intake of breath and the way his aura flares with power. 

He lifts you effortlessly and pulls you heavily against his lap. The initial press of the bulge of his cock against your aching core, even through layers of fabric makes you cry out and shake in his arms. The pull of energy between your bodies is just too much. You grind yourself against his lap. It feels so fucking good. You can’t help but whimper against his lips. 

He wrenches away from you, swearing under his breath. His hands tighten on your hips and pull you to him. He growls though, when he can’t get you close enough. The angle of the couch and the bend of your knees, the way he’s sitting. It’s just not enough. 

He stands up, effortlessly supporting you with his strength. He adjusts you in his arms, pulling you towards him. Your skirt has basically ridden up almost all the way, your sheer panties already soaked. You’re practically bare to him. You know he’s sensitive enough to feel the heat of you even through his pants as he presses you to his crotch. 

You shake in his arms and he bites down on your shoulder. He moves you easily, grinding your hips against him. He’s eager and he adjusts you roughly, slamming your hips into the large and pointed buckle at his belt. You yelp with pain. 

You reach down between your bodies to try and undo it. He growls in frustration. “There’s holsters.” His voice is dark, the second tone of his devil floating just underneath the surface.” Hold on.”

He juggles you with one hand so he has one free. He can easily support you with just one, so you’re not concerned. You notice that with just one hand, he has no idea how to actually get his belt off. 

You wait for a moment, nipping at his collarbones. You wait for the flash of light when he summons his wings. But it doesn’t happen. You realise that of course, he doesn’t know he can do that. 

“Wings,” you murmur against his skin. 

He doesn’t respond, too focused on trying to work out how to undress himself. 

“Dante,” you say firmly so that he looks at you. “Wings.”

He looks confused for a moment but then with a flash of light and heat, his wings appear behind him. They shift and flap awkwardly, he doesn’t know what to do with them and he can’t fold them up in front how he normally would, because you’re in the way.

You know what to do though, reaching out and gently touching the wing on the opposite side to the hand he has on your ass. They’re made of a fairly thin, glowing membrane but they’re strong and the large talons that sit sickle curved and wicked tipped at the ends of them are more than capable of supporting your weight. Together they’re basically a seat that he has the power to control. 

He watches you closely, not sure what you’re going to do. You pull it carefully towards you. You know where the joints are, so you can easily angle it until the talon at the end is parallel to your back. You move it carefully underneath your ass until you’re resting your weight on the curve of the half-moon shape. 

Dante’s face lights up with shock as he realises that you can sit on his wings. He helps you with the other one, understanding what to do with it now. It’s only a few moments until all of your weight is resting on his wings. He flexes them carefully, testing how much strength he needs to move them, how to move them. It takes only a moment for him to pull you close to his body, now with both of his hands free. 

He uses enhanced speed to remove his belt and everything attached to it. It all falls to the floor between your bodies with a heavy thunk. He undoes the fly on his pants quickly too. Pulling them down roughly to free his surely aching cock. He pulls you to his lips once more, angling his wings to press your core roughly against him. 

You can’t help but groan against his lips. Your hands tangle in his hair. You don’t want him to pull away from you. He’s not quite as good at controlling his wings as what you’re used to, but you know he’ll get the hang of it. 

His now free hands are on your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. You bite down on his lip as his thumb brushes over your nipple. Even through layers of fabric, the spark of his touch sends a jolt through you. 

He pulls away, growling. He’s breathing heavily and his eyes are dark. He pulls your shirt against, buttons clattering to the floor. You see a flash of red in his eyes are he takes in your lacey, barely there bra. 

His voice is a dark growl. “Did you wear this just for me?”

You pull on his hair and he rumbles deep within his chest. “Maybe, do you like it?”

He bounces you on his wings and the tongue that carefully emerges from between his lips is spikey and long. He pulls the cup of your bra down roughly and drags his hot, barbed tongue across your breast. He groans at your flavour and the way your nipple pebbles underneath his tongue. 

You pull roughly at his hair, the way you know he likes. He likes having to put some effort into not having his head yanked back by you. His tongue is boiling hot and electric on your skin.

It’s not long until he works out how to move his wings to grind you against him. He rubs you roughly against his clothed cock. You want him so badly it almost hurts. You’re practically bare against him and you can feel the soaked gusset of your panties smearing wetness across the thin fabric of his underwear. 

“I need you,” you moan, beg against his ear. He lifts his head, pulls his lips away from the dark marks and bruises that now cover your chest. There are patches of scales appearing on the sides of his face now, his eyes glowing red slits as he stares at you like he’s going to devour you. You want him to. 

His wings flex and lower you slightly. You reach between the scorching heat of your bodies to free his cock, unceremoniously pulling down his underwear and freeing his cock. He growls when your hand touches the heated flesh, bare to you for the first time. He’s wet, coated in precome and your own juices that soaked through the fabric of his underwear. 

You stroke him root to tip a few times, just to tease him. You can tell from the warning growl he lets out though, that he’s not going to tolerate your teasing for very long. He flexes his wings again, starts to angle your lower body. 

His voice is low and crackling with energy as you pull the ruined fabric of your panties to the side. “I’m on a hair trigger,” he groans. 

“Fuck,” you moan. Your hand slips on his cock as arousal surges through you. You recover and line him up, pressing the heat of him to your soaked entrance. His cock drools scorching precome against your too sensitive skin. “That’s what I want. Fill me up. As much as you can. Just don’t stop.”

He bites down hard on your shoulder as he presses his hips forward and flexes his wings. 

You’re soaking wet and he’s leaking like crazy but it’s not an easy slide. He’s huge of course and it’s been a while since you’ve had him. Your body just isn’t used to him anymore. He rocks his hips slowly. You know he’s fighting his instincts to just push all the way inside quickly and take you. 

“Fuck,” he groans deeply, underneath his breath while you claw at his shoulders for support. 

It’s slow going but the more he presses in, the more whole you start to feel. The more the rush and burn of the stretch and arousal begins to utterly take you over. 

He’s impatient at the end, pulling you roughly forward with his wings to force the very base of him inside of you. He comes almost immediately, at the scratch of your panties against his public bone. He groans heavily against your skin and bites hard down on your shoulder. You can feel the scorching pulse of his release inside of you. The rush of hormones and pheromones slams into you and pushes you over the edge too. You convulse and shudder against his wings and around his cock. 

You white out for a moment. His cock is still utterly rock solid and throbbing inside of you. It’s all you can focus on as a switch flicks in your mind. The entire world screeches to a halt. Your vision is filled with rainbows when you open your eyes again. You feel hot, desperate, brimming with energy. The world swims for a moment before it returns with utterly perfect clarity. 

You realise suddenly that you’d forgotten. This was how you saw the world just a year ago. It had all faded without you even realising. 

Dante notices the change, pulling back to look at you. You yank his head roughly to the side. He makes a sound that’s like a combined purr and growl. You bite down on his neck, breaking the skin and lapping up drops of sweet crimson elixir with your tongue. The pain you assume, pulls him from his slight post orgasm haze. His blood lights the fire of arousal and desperation inside your own body. 

The entire world apart from the two of you ceases to exist. 

It’s hardly sex anymore. A normal human wouldn’t be able to survive what he’s doing to you. He fucks you like the half devil that he truly is. He takes his utter fill of you while you respond in kind. The bond between the two of you surges through your body. It gives you the strength to survive the onslaught of him on every single one of your senses. 

He’s careful to start with, a little bit anymore. He fucks you with long, deep thrusts. He pulls out all of the way and then slams back in. Your whole body quakes from the force of his hips and his flexing wings. He’s definitely worked out how to use them now. 

His eyes are glowing and you think yours might be too. You can see yourself reflected in his eyes and it’s terrifying. You pull him to you for a brutal kiss. You kiss your blood from his lips and then prick your tongue on his fangs while he snarls low in his throat. 

He fucks you brutally, roughly. It’s fucking perfect but it’s not enough. “Harder,” you scream at him, your voice hardly your own anymore. You feel like you could trigger, you assume that’s how this feels anyway. You need his cock deep inside of you. You need him to hit so deep that he plugs the void inside of you. 

You’re slammed against the nearest wall. You think you might have gone through it if it wasn’t double brick. There’s dust and paint whipping up in clouds around you anyway. His wings shelter you from any damage though. 

He slams your previously fragile body against his pelvis. He impales you roughly on his cock. You want him to split you open. He fucks you at a pace that should shatter your pelvis, but you’re his mate, so it only fills you with pleasure. Horns sprout from his head, curling up from his hair while the patches of scales start to spread across his cheeks. 

It doesn’t take much for him to lose himself anymore. His ability to hold back his orgasms lessens the more his devil takes over. He doesn’t get soft though and fuck he comes just as much fluid regardless of how many times it’s been. You can feel his cock jerking heavily inside of you with startling clarity and you almost swear you can feel each thick, hot pulse of seed as it coats your insides. 

He has incredible stamina, but you can tell he’s struggling to keep you supported with his wings. He roars like the feral creature that he is. By this point you’ve practically been fucked half-way through the wall. You’re still begging him for more though even as his legs start to shake.

He makes a decision and pulls you back from the wall. You can hear the plaster and crumbled bricks fall to the floor. He walks you over to the bedroom, slamming the door open. He throws you onto the bed and you bounce quite high until he crawls on top of you and stops the momentum. He pins you down into the mattress with a claw tipped hand on your shoulder. 

He’s utterly feral, barely human anymore. His eyes are completely red while scales are starting to work their way down his neck. His wings pulse with throbbing ribbons of light, rocking back and forth behind him in time with his breathing. There are scales on his hips framing the obscene, wet jut of his cock. 

He rumbles from deep within his chest. You know you’ve unleashed the beast. He lowers himself down to you, clawed hands moving to and pricking at your thighs. He throws your legs up and bends you almost in half. As he lowers his weight down above you, you realise he’s put you in a mating press. He doesn’t bother to line his cock up with you, he just thrusts sloppy, rock hard and uncoordinated between your legs until eventually he easily sinks inside. He snaps his hips, pushing all the way in to the hilt, groaning and pressing his weight down on you until you feel like you might suffocate. 

He ruts against you desperately, hooking his talons on the bed frame to give him more leverage. All you can do it cry out against him at the overwhelming sensation as he takes his fill of you. 

You can’t help but crane your neck upwards to look at him in awe. He’s absolute raw power, a barely tamed beast. You have to tilt your head all the way back just to make contact with his shimmering, unfocused glowing eyes. His horns scrape against the bars on the back of the bed as the tendons in his neck strain and stand out stark against his skin. 

He’s incredible, a divine creature. No human should have claim over a beast like this. It’s no surprise that you’re so utterly addicted to him in every single way. How could any human ever have enough of him once they have a taste?

His two tones voice breaks you from the haze of pleasure and awe. His thrusts are brutal and he uses all of the leverage he can get to work his muscular hips. “You’re mine,” he growls desperately by your head, his glowing eyes lighting up your vision. “Gonna stuff you full.” He’s too far gone to even notice what he’s saying, you can tell by his eyes. “Fill you up until no more fits and then keep going. Mark you as mine so that no one else will ever want you. Get you addicted to this cock.”

His body starts shaking and his teeth clench, his jaw is not quite human looking anymore. He struggles to keep speaking over his heavy breaths, his chest heaving. The tendons in his neck strain and tighten while his hands grip to tight on your body that you know you’re bruised. “Gonna breed you,” he cries out, voice fully dark. “Gonna fucking breed you. Fuck. Mine.” The heat surrounding him is unbearable and the air crackles with his power. “Gonna fucking breed you so you don’t leave me ever again.”

He’s starting to phase and trigger. Scales move down his neck while his cock begins to pulse and change shape inside of you. The pleasure grows too much as clawed fingers dig bloody bruises into your thighs. He bites down on the pillow by your head, so he doesn’t rip your throat out instead. He holds you down to press himself as deep as he can inside of you. 

He doesn’t stop, not when you come over and over against him. Not when you start spasming and crying out his name in desperation and overstimulation. He doesn’t stop when he comes with a roar that shakes the very foundations of the building. 

You’re a passenger in your own body as he takes his fill of you. It’s too much, too much feeling, too much emotion. There are years to make up for of course. He fucks you so hard that the bed ends up on the other side of the room. Each time he comes, which is so very often now it sends a ripple of power through you. Your eyes burst with light until you’re overflowing with power. 

The more that he fucks you, the more that he comes inside your desperate body, the less wrong he feels. The less you think that he’s not your Dante, the more you think that he could be yours. 

You don’t know how much time has passed when he finally collapses on top of you. His wings fizzle away and he groans, absolutely spent. 

He curls around you, pulls you to his body while he purrs deep within his chest. You feel incredible, invigorated and alive even though you’re exhausted. He adjusts you carefully and then slips his still hard cock inside your sloppy pussy once more. Not to fuck you, just for the contact. It feels good to be close to him, and you know he relishes in the contact with you too. 

He sighs, purring and nuzzling at the back of your neck. He’s so happy, so content. You can feel it in his scent and in his exhausted aura. It makes you ache.

You’re going to send him back. He’s not even going to remember this wonderful bliss. Your heart breaks for him. You hope that it just makes him feel better, helps him handle the next ten years or so that he has to wait for you. You hope that you haven’t made it worse by loving him like this. Your exhausted, overstimulated body starts to cry once more. 

He tightens his strong arms around you and buries his nose into your hair. “Sssh, don’t cry,” he coos. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

His cock twitches slightly inside of you, like it’s trying to comfort you as well. He shifts slightly and presses his hairless chest against your back and rubs a stubble free cheek against your skin. They’re all false comforts. 

Even though you’re sated for the first time in a long time. Even though you feel fucking alive again. You can’t help but feel like you’ve made a mistake. 

Eventually the tears stop because it’s impossible to cry when you feel so safe and warm, and because you’re hurting him as well. You know how it feels, how the tears magically dry up when your partner is distraught. You know that being upset is just hurting him, that he doesn’t want to think about why you’re upset. 

You’re tired but you don’t sleep. You bask in the afterglow together and even after what feels like hours, it’s barely even the afternoon. Light still streams in from between the curtains. 

Eventually Dante yawns and stretches, slipping his cock from inside you and rolling you over to face him. 

“What do you wanna do for the rest of the day?” he asks you, grinning ridiculously. 

“I don’t think I can move.”

He stretches, joints popping. “I’ll carry you anywhere you need to go.” He gently reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay?” He looks around, surveying the absolute mess he’s made of the room. “I was probably too rough.”

“I needed it too,” you say, as if that makes it any better.

“Are you going to send me back tomorrow?”

You nod. 

“I just wanna spend the time with you,” he smiles softly, “maybe with some pizza and ice cream though.”

“Sure. Anything you want.”

He grins like a child being given a treat. It’s so fucking endearing and so fucking Dante. You can’t help but lean forward and press a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Later,” he says, “if you feel up to it of course. You’ve got a whole box of kinky shit underneath the bed, don’t you?”

“Was that not enough for you?” you tease him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of you,” he says a faraway look in his eyes.

“It’s not just the box under the bed,” you grin. “We have a whole dungeon in the basement.”

He looks shocked while you just laugh. Even if he’s only temporary, even if he’s going to forget everything, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give him absolutely everything that you can. You can already feel your body starting to perk back up. Apparently you’ve acquired some of his advanced healing.

“Oh Dante. Sweetheart. I hope you’re ready to regret saying that you’ll never have enough of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know I left the ending a little bit open, but like I wanted to leave some space to come back to this maybe.
> 
> Honestly what did you guys think of this one? I really just wanted to write some feral wall sex with wings, finishing with a mating press and it ended up with all of this angst and plot somehow. 
> 
> Anyway, come find me on Tumblr and Twitter as TehRevving


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